In this adapted excerpt from The Heart-Shaped Tin: Love, Loss and Kitchen Objects, Bee Wilson explores how items in our kitchens can become unintentionally meaningful to us over time. She considers the value and meaning of a heart-shaped tin in her own home—a symbol of a marriage that ended after 23 years—and also shares stories of others’ treasured kitchen objects, showing how ordinary things can quietly carry memories of love and loss.

Many people told me that they could still feel the presence of a lost parent or partner in their china cupboard. I met someone who said that the one object belonging to his mother that he and his siblings all wanted when they cleared her house was a glass salad-dressing maker. His mother never rinsed out the garlic at the bottom, just adding fresh garlic before pouring in the oil and vinegar, meaning that this vessel carried the garlicky essence of decades of shared meals. Another person told me that she had a very powerful sense of one of her ancestors, whom she had never met, because she had inherited her rolling pin. A friend told me that the only thing she now had left from her French grandmother was a rusty old herb chopper from long-ago Paris, where her family ran a brasserie. My friend never used this chopper herself, but every time she looked at it she could see her grandmother’s hands, alive and cooking.

More picks from The Guardian

The Pie and Mash Crisis: Can the Original Fast Food Be Saved?

Tim Dowling | The Guardian | February 3, 2026 | 2,195 words

“There used to be hundreds of pie and mash shops in London. Now there are barely more than 30. Can social media attention and a push for protected status ensure their survival?”

Cheri has been an editor at Longreads since 2014.